Honestly
by Contagious Sunshine
Summary: This is hardly a love story. China Doll takes interest in the writer.
1. Fixation

**Title:** Honestly  
**Author**: Contagious Sunshine  
**Pairings:** China Doll/Christian  
**Rating:** PG (maybe PG-13 later on)  
**Summary:** 'This is hardly a love story.' China Doll takes an interest in the writer.  
**A/N:** Second Moulin Rouge fic. This is an actual story thoguh and will have (I think) three chapters. This a continuation of my other story 'Happenstance' but you do not need to read that one to understand this fic.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own it. Really. I don't.

* * *

This is hardly a love story.

* * *

She had never really been fascinated with something (someone) before. Sure, there was the dancing but that was just something she did for the Moulin Rouge. It was her job, not an interest. And there had been times when she was younger where she would take interest in something (writing, painting) but she would either lose that interest or find out that she was terribly horrible at it. Nothing ever jumped out at her, nothing ever caught her eye. And the girls noticed.

"So hard to please that, China Doll," they would whisper behind her back in the dressing rooms when they thought she couldn't hear. "No wonder no man comes back twice!" And they were right.

They were almost always right.

It aggravated her too, drove her crazy sometimes. She didn't understand it. Why could she just find something interesting for a change? It wasn't like she wanted to be this way, she just was. It was a part of her, she figured, like a habit she couldn't get rid of. She began to believe it. Began to believe that she would never, ever find something.

That was, until he came along.

She had seen him the night he first stepped in the Mouln Rouge. He had been nervous and she had approached him in hopes of getting an offer. In the end, all she got was a compliment ("You are very beautiful") and a funny feeling in her stomach. She didn't know she would see him again. Hell, she didn't even know his name.

When Zidler had introduced him to the entire company, she couldn't believe it. He was to be the writer of 'Spectacular Spectacular', the man that Zidler guaranteed to make this show a hit. She had watched him the entire time Zidler rambled on, examining himmore closely. He was handsome, yes, but he was young. Short dark hair, nice eyes. He had a sort of child-like innocence that showed when he smiled. And he had a charming smile. She couldn't help herself really.

He had a natural ability with writing too. He would be explaining a scene to them to make sure everyone understood, and she could practically imagine herself there. The words flowed with such ease that she couldn't believe that they came from him. He was too young to understand half the things he wrote about (the jealousy, the betrayal, the love) but here they were, making perfect sense on paper as well on stage. She wished she had a talent like that.

She had become fascinated.

* * *

Many couldn't believe her.

"Honestly, China Doll, this whole story he's written up is a load of nonsense," Arabia told her one day when she was lacing her up, "I can't believe you can stand it."

"I think it's rather nice," stated Tarot from her spot by a mirror.

"Oh, shut it. You think everything's 'rather nice'," Nini told her, mimicking Tarot's voice in a sickly sweet drawl.

Most of the girls laughed, a few just smiled at the imitation.Tarot looked angry but didn't say anything and continued to fiddle with her hair.

Arabia turned back to her and began to tighten the corset again.

"All the stuff he's going on about is a bunch of silly rhymes and dreams. Do you think that can happen in real life? In our lives?" Arabia asked.

She fell silent, not replying, and when Arabia had finished with her corset she stomped off, claiming to have a bad headache from all their chattering (though everyone knew otherwise). It was better then facing the truth.

The following day, she showed up early for rehearsal to practice for one of the recent numbers that they had just learned. It was way to early for anyone to really be up. She already had nearly tripped due to the fact that she was still practically half asleep and she had yawned at least five times already. But she had to practice.

As she entered the large hall, her eyes caught sight of him, sitting not too far from the stage. He was shuffling through some papers and occasionally he would mutter to himself about something. She stopped, not sure whether to disturb him or not (though she very much wanted to) but then her confidence kicked in and she strode towards the stage, not once taking her eyes off of him. He didn't seem to notice her though since he didn't even look up when she brushed past him. He was too busy, too caught up in his work. It didn't bother her (just a little) and she sat on the stage, wrapping her shawl tighter around her.

He still hadn't noticed her and he let out a large yawn.

"A bit tired, are we?" she asked, finally finding her voice.

He looked up, surprised to see her there. He stared. She simply rested her chin in her hand, waiting for an answer.

"I had a long night. I was busy with Sa-," He stopped mid-sentence and let out a small cough. "I w-was busy with the show."

She eyed him curiously but didn't push the matter.

"You know," she started, "Many of the girls think this entire show you're writingis nonsense."

"Oh." His shoulders slumped and his face fell a little. She noticed.

"I think it's brillant," she told him, hoping to boost his spirits.

He smiled. "Thanks."

She shrugged but couldn't helpbut smile back.

Just then a couple of the girls walked in (Harlequin, Baby Doll, and Tarot) laughing about something and the moment between them was lost. She looked at them, then him, before standing up and making her way towards her fellow dancers.

She didn't look back at him.

_tbc._


	2. Obsession

**Title:** Honestly  
**Author:** Contagious Sunshine  
**Pairings:** China Doll/Christian  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** 'This is hardly a love story.' China Doll takes an interest in the writer.  
**A/N:** Second Moulin Rouge fic. This chapter is not as 'light-hearted', I guess, as the previous chapter but I promise it's still good. I just had to do this to move the story along. This chapter is also longer then the first.  
**Disclaimer:** Still don't own it.

* * *

She first heard the rumor from Travesty.

The older girl had stomped into the dressing room after a tiring rehearsal, her face mad with rage. "I don't believe it!" she shouted to no one in particular. "That little tramp thinks she can get away with anything just because she's the precious _Sparkling Diamond_!"

She looked up from her spot on the floor where she had been mending a tear in her stocking. She had never seen Travesty this angry before over anything, not even when one of the rakes had ruined her favorite corset during a rough night. She watched her curiously, having no idea why she could possibly be mad at Satine, since Satine hardly spoke two words to any of them.

"Really now, we have to abide by the rules but when it comes to her, Zidler pretends like he doesn't know! She shouldn't get special treatment. When it comes down to it, she's just a common whore like the rest of us!" Travesty yelled before sitting down and running a comb through her hair with such force, she was sure it was going to break.

The other girls simply nodded in agreement, some even yelled "Yeah, like the rest of us!"and slammed their fist down to strengthen their message.

"If she's going to do it, then someone should really say something to Zidler!" Baby Doll stated.

"What's he going to do? Throw her out on the street like he would if it were any of us?" Tattoo asked. Many of them murmured that she had a point. Travesty still fumed in the corner.

She looked around, confused. What, in God's name, were they going on about? Had something happened at rehearsal that she hadn't heard about? She was there. Surely, she would have seen something. Or maybe she had been to focused on other things to really pay attention. She turned back to her stocking.

Suddenly, Harlequin sat next her. She looked up and leaned over to the other girl.

"What was Travesty going on about?" she asked, hoping she would finally get an answer.

Harlequin gasped in shock. "You mean no one's told you?"

She shook her head. "Why do you think I'm asking?"

"Oh, right," Harlequin replied. She was never to good with the obvious. "Well, seems that the star of the show is bedding that little writer."

Her face paled. Her heart dropped.

"I know! Imagine, falling for a man who can't even pay for one night? And she, of all people!" Harlequin laughed and shook her head in disbelief. She didn't reply and soon the other girl had struck up a conversation with Garden Girl.

She abandoned her mending and hurried out of the dressing room (no one noticed her leave). She had to get out of there, she had to sort out her thoughts.

Because when Harlequin told her the news, she realized that this was no longer just a fixation.

It was obsession.

* * *

Rehearsals were different now.

She would see him to but tried not to pay too much attention. But when he was around Satine, she watched and she would notice things. The way he would lean close to her when he was explaining a scene. The way he would smile at her. The way they glanced at each other when they thought no one was looking. She didn't care though. If Satine wanted to jeopardize her entire career, then let her go ahead and do it. No, she didn't care. It didn't bother her in the least.

Deep down, she knew she was lying.

She tried focusing on other things. She would absorb herself into the routines, work even harder, concentrate on nothing else. The twirls, the kicks, the patterns; they became her new fixation (or at least, she wanted them too). Anything to keep her mind off of him. And it worked until she lost focus once again. But she would pull herself out of it. Then she would start to practice again, pushing herself, until one day at rehearsal, she collapsed from exhaustion.

She awoke to the sound of murmurings and hushed whispers.

"What was she thinking, practicing more then she should? Nearly worked herself to death!" Arabia hissed.

Another voice piped up. "I've never seen her act like this before," Travesty whispered back, "And she's the most dedicated out of all of us."

"Maybe she just wants to do a good job," came Tarot's reply. She stirred a little in her half-awaken state.

Her head was pounding and her arm hurt. She felt someone place a damp rag on her head and she let out a small moan.

They didn't understand.

She was sure that no one did.

* * *

The next day, she only watched rehearsals and didn't partake in them at Zidler's orders. She had protested, of course, saying that she was perfectly fine except for a bruise on her arm from where she fell on the stage. But Zidler had given a final verdict and she sat on the sides, quietly fuming. Nini, Mome Fromage, and Arabia were with her though. They weren't needed today. Frankly, they were glad for the break.

They were to perform the finale for the Duke today for his approval. It was a pivotal time. If he didn't like it then it would be impossible for them to make any change to it. It was already too late. The show opened the next day. Not even the writer would be able to whip something up that fast.

She watched with little interest as the scene progressed, finally reaching the final song that she had heard Nini described as "lovey-dovey nonsense". As she watched, something inside her began stirring and she began to feel a strong hate for Satine as she was on stage singing. She glanced over at the writer and he was smiling, singing along with it.

She wanted to scream.

Nini and Arabia were laughing at some story Mome Fromage was going on about, and she turned her head quickly to face them.

"Nini," she called, a plan forming in her mind.

The other woman stopped laughing and looked up in surprise. Mome stopped her story and Arabia watched, curiosity gracing her features.

"You know how you think this whole ending is a bunch of nonsense?" she asked, a playful smile on her lips.

"Yeah, so?" Nini replied, unsure of where this was going.

She cocked her head towards where the Duke was sitting, watching intently.

"Maybe you should go tell him about it."

Nini stared at her in confusion for a minute before finally understanding what she was talking about. Her thin, red lips pulled back in a cynical smile.

"I think I will," she said and got up to make her way over.

Arabia eyed her. "China Doll, what are you playing at?"

"Nothing," she replied innocently. With that, she turned away from the other girl and turned to watch Nini as she bent over to talk to the Duke.

"Nothing at all," she whispered to herself as her eyes watched the red-haired woman on the stage.

_tbc._


End file.
